Trespassing

Trip's POV

Two arms wrapped my chest from behind. Plush lips pushed on my neck, smiling. My thoughts gravitated leaving my head spinning.

"Good morning," she whispered and like a puzzle piece clicked, I whirled, facing her.

"It is now." My lips were on hers like they'd been apart for far too long. I tasted her sunshine smile as her arms slipped around my neck, closing the distance. Ava's mouth was a new mystery every time; I could never figure out what ingredient left me addicted.

Ava pulled her head, "People are staring."

I took a faint look around. My eyes didn't want to miss a second of her face.

"Fuck them," she pinched me. I grinned. "Does it bother you?"

"Not so much," she mussed tilting her head. "Probably because I'm used to attention." That and it had been almost two weeks since we'd become an official couple.

The hands on her hips adjusted making her stand chest to chest with me. Ava's hands slid from my shoulders, fingers digging softly, rubbing down in circles. Her little massage made me feel lazy. If we weren't in school I'd just drool. Not a pretty picture.

"I think I made Finn leave." She stated with a little guilty smirk. I'd been talking to him before her sneak-attack.

"Huh-uh," my eyes fell to her heaving breasts—pushing against me.

"Are you having dirty thoughts?"

Totally, "Nope."

"Are too," I sighed taking my eyes off the button keeping her cleavage from view. Her palm patted my chest with a vixen smile. "Such a dirty mind you have, Harrington." She pecked my chin holding a giggle.

"One day you might be surprised." Ava gave an eye roll. I laughed as we made our way up St. Joseph's stairs. The first day we strolled in as a couple eyes had been super-glued on us. I spent most day with Ava, just to be sure the other girls wouldn't tear her hair and eyes out—and maybe because of guys who thought she was easy 'cause she was with me. Ava was anything but easy, though. I liked to think any other guy wouldn't last two minutes with her.

Today things were normal—at least, no one was whispering about my hand in hers. Thomas Harrington holding a girl's hand, who would have thought? I chuckled—then saw her looking my way with a sparkle in her pupil. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy, kind of girlish but to hell with that—I was happy.

We settled against the wall outside our class room. I loved the idea of 'us', of touching her, kissing her wherever, whenever I wanted—the bell rang.

I groaned.

Ava drew in pressing a deep smooch.

"Classes suck." I breathed. Me and Ava let everyone walk in after our teacher did.

"Family dinners are worse." I knitted my eyebrows. "Did you forget? I wouldn't hold it against if you did—"

"No," I said, as it hit me. "I remember. Dinner with your parents on Saturday—eight o'clock." She huffed; I fondled her hair. "I've told you I'm okay with it. It's normal for parents to meet your boyfriend, isn't it?"

"We've been together for two weeks." Ava wasn't very happy with her parent's attitude. I just went with it; we had a chance of being together, even if my mom was using us to earn more fame. "You could have said 'no'."

I shrugged, "Maybe I want to leave a good impression?" she knocked my hip with hers, eyes rolling. I cracked a grin. "It's true—"

"Shouldn't you be inside?" Finn paused going in, nudging my shoulder.

Right, English.

***

I stood outside by the SUV. It was eight o'clock, Saturday.

I swallowed keeping my arms crossed. I told Ava I was okay with dinner. But now... now I'd kill to be the Road Runner. I sighed, high on frustration; meeting parents was never my thing—the closest thing I'd had to a girlfriend was Catherine, so.

Ava's parents weren't my two favorite people, either. I felt like I already knew them, although I'd never talked to them.

I couldn't stay out here like a creep, though. Pushing away my bad-ass mojo and summoning my cool face and nice attitude, I walked up the steps to Ava's house. Cracking a smile as I rang the door bell.

After months, I was finally using the door.

I didn't have much time to shift or change my mind. The door peeked open—I recognized those doe-eyes anywhere. Her smile was undeniable. Stepping outside, Ava kissed me deliciously.

"That was quick," I nodded at the front door. "Were you waiting behind the door?" a gasp made it out, as my solar plexus got punched. "Got it..." I wheezed. "That's a negatory." My eyes went over her shoulder, she followed them; her arms dropped from me.

"Staring is creepy, dad." She said with a disapproving stare. Her hand groped for mine, blindly—I winded our fingers. With a tug I went forward, standing under the porch's light. "Anyway," she cleared out her voice. "This is Thomas—and obviously that's my dad." Her head spun from me to him as she introduced us.

Go forward, shake his hand—easy. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Wellington." The dude was so staring me down.

Ava gave him a hurrying stare. Finally, he shook my hand.

"Yes, I'm sure." His eyebrows furrowed in a studying glare. "I'd appreciate if you didn't make a spectacle every time you kiss my daughter." Very straight forward, kinda like my dad, just not as emotionally detached.

Ava's mouth shut tightly before she gritted, "Let's go inside—come on." She pulled me along, her father let us by still glaring steadily. So much for good impressions. I was taken from the hall to the living room in a blink of an eye. "Sorry about that," she sighed. "He's been a little difficult to put up with. He wasn't a big fan of our runway kiss." I shook my head with a slight forced smile.

"I get it. If you were my only daughter I'd be pretty protective, too."

"Ah... don't say only daughter." She whispered nodding to a photo. A girl who looked very much like my girlfriend was in it—along with Ava. "They're not good with coping." Right; Ava's sister died about two years ago. Sore subject: noted.

"Anything else I should know?"

Her lips parted—

"Do you want anything to drink, Thomas?" her father asked pouring himself two inches of—I inhaled—scotch. Was this a test or a joke?

Saying I didn't drink would be a huge lie. "Bourbon would be nice." I swear his eyes jumped in alarm, it made me titter up—Ava too.

"He's joking, dad." Her hand in mine was like a comfort blanket, even if I was in enemy territory, I felt safe. "He likes Jack Daniel's better." Her father was so red-faced I thought he was showing signs of a stroke—that melted when a beautiful laugh broke from his daughter. "Dad, seriously, chill. He doesn't drink..." I heard her swallow the word 'much' and withheld a grin.

Her dad's pushy eyebrows knitted. Mr. Wellington doubted Ava, but said nothing more about the subject. The reason why was clear as a sweet scolding tone rang from behind us.

"Don't start, David, the boy just got here. Try and be nice for Ava?" I guessed the green-eyed, short haired lady was Ava's mother. There were faint resemblances—like their nose, hair color. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you!" her hand was easy to shake. "I've been droning Ava for months and she never once said a word about you. She never even told me there was someone she liked."

"Mom—"

"It's true, honey." Her mother shrugged. "But that doesn't matter now," a smile broke her disappointed face. "You can tell us all about it over dinner! I made Ava's favorite, Eggplant Parmesan. Do you like it?"

"I never tried it." I went for a winning smile. "But I'm sure it'll be wonderfully cooked, Mrs. Wellington."

She shook her head, "Call me Elizabeth." Sure, I nodded. Girls I could work, especially this kind of greedy ones. Ava had warned me. "Everything is set so we can eat—oh, David I need you to pick out a wine..."

We let them walk to the kitchen, then I quietly asked, "I thought your favorite food was chicken?"

"It is." Ava murmured. "It's... complicated." Her doe-eyes crawled all over mine. My fingers brushed a stray hair, leaning our faces closer.

"You can tell me." Did that sound like begging? Fuck it did. But I wanted her to know she could trust me, didn't she know it by now? Her face turned away. Apparently not. "Come on, Rosy." I teased.

"Are you going to tell me what your mom has on you that's so-life-wrecking?"

Damn, she was at it again. "It's different—"

"How do you know?" her voice flared.

I scratched my scar. We weren't going to fight. Not with her parents present. Actually, I'd rather never fight with her. I had a feeling she'd win with her Bambi-like charm.

"Fair enough," I leaned to kiss her forehead. "Let's get this over with."

Ava led me into the dining room. I took a seat by her side; her father was at the head of the table, her mother in front of her. The food looked like lasagna to me. Once we were all served, Ava was the first to dig in. good thing too, 'cuz there was a heavy atmosphere.

Her father glared, her mother smiled like a toddler did at shinny things. Nice.

"So, Thomas," I chewed carefully as David stopped eating, looking my way. "What are your plans?" my plans? Was he like... asking what my intentions with Ava were— "For the future. What do you want to follow?"

Oh. "Huh," even my Bambi was staring curiously. "Law school, I want to be a Civil Rights Attorney."

David's eyes widened a tad. Maybe he thought I hadn't anything mapped out? Suck on that, Mr. Intimidating.

"A lawyer? How wonderful." Her mother commented.

"Any idea what College you want to apply to?"

"Yale, maybe. But I'm still deciding." Talking about this stuff with adults was... weird. My parents never made these questions. My mom cared about my looks and other gifts, my father prayed I didn't get expelled again. "Ava said you teach at NYU. Archeology?"

He nodded. "Do you know anything about it?"

I downed a laugh, "Whatever I know I learned from Indiana Jones." His studying eye came back—great. Not a fan of movies, then. Tough, crowd...

"How did you two meet?"

At that, me and Ava stood perfectly still. We should just say at school. Why bring Ms. Coleman's office into the picture? It was something that only we knew—no one else.

"At school, mom, duh. English class." She talked in a voice not her own—I'd also been warned about that. The cheery, perky tone? Did not match my girlfriend at all. "I just didn't say anything because well... we were getting to know each other." Her hand squeezed my knee under the table.

"Oh, yeah, totally." I wasn't sure why I had to corroborate the story. "The food's great, Elizabeth." Huh, didn't even get the name wrong.

"Thank you, Thomas, you're so nice." She smiled, I smiled—it was a whole smiling-festival.

This felt like a remake of Meet the Parents, only with splitting tension instead of comedy. I was dying to run away and take Ava along.

When desert rolled around, I'd been asked about... pretty much everything. Plans for the future, favorite shit I didn't give a crap about, my own parents—I was pretty exhausted. Although, Ava's mother did cook well. Her chocolate pie rocked my taste buds—and that sounded so creepy to think...

When it was over I could barely wait for Ava to walk me to the door. I politely declined Elizabeth's invite to stay longer. I didn't need more nosy questions, no offense to Ava, but her mom was a serious gold-digger. Our mom's would love to chat.

"I barely talked to you..." she whined into my neck. "I told you it would be horrible."

I winced, "It wasn't that bad. Your dad didn't harpoon me." She giggled shaking her head, brown hair splaying all over. "I think we deserve some time alone, too." I cupped her face. We were out on the porch, no one too close, but I whispered the words anyway, "Leave your window open."

Before I tugged away, she pushed our lips softly. Mine curved into hers. I could call her parents every name in the book, but God-freaking-bless them for having made such a perfect daughter—perfect for me.

"I'll be waiting." She pulled away completely, leaving me breathless. Winking she closed the door.

After waiting around for fifteen minutes, I did my climbing and jumping. Her window was open, the light coming from inside a beacon. She was sitting on bed, smiling. There in her bedroom I felt secure, comfortable.

My eyes shot for the door—

"It's locked," she said, getting up. "I wouldn't want to shove you under my bed again."

My arms circled her, "I agree. I think I swallowed a dust bunny last time." I mused and Ava made a yuck-face. "We're alone." My voice lowered, lips brushed her upper one. "I missed being alone with you."

"I did, too." She pulled me to sit against the headboard. It was my first time on Ava's bed. I wasn't about to ruin the moment she lowered her head onto my chest with some childish comment. Even if I had plenty. "Are we going to anymore parties this month?"

I could hear the tiredness. Ava did her best to hide it, tried to play it tough, but I knew it was there.

"I hope not, Ava." These last two weeks, we'd been forced to attend four parties. Two of them had been fundraisers, the others openings. We hadn't gotten many minutes alone. Hell, I hadn't seen Gabe since the fashion show—kinda missed the bone head already. "Look on the bright side," her rich chocolate eyes glanced up to me. "We haven't been to Ms. Coleman's in two weeks." We missed our sessions in order to get ready for the high-class shows.

Ava flicked my nose, "She's going to ask tons of things, Thomas. I wish we didn't have to go anymore." But we did.

"It's not so bad with you there." Her fingers ran through my hair. "Hey, look at that—" I pointed to the foot of bed. "Have you been sleeping with him? Should I be jealous?"

She grinned pulling fast, reaching for Ollie—hugging it to her chest. She cuddled to my side.

"He's been a very good company," she kissed the wolf cub. "Not as good as you, though." My arm trapped her against me, she felt so warm. "Tomorrow's Sunday..." she murmured sleepily. "Are you tired?"

My head tilted into hers. "A little," I was beat. "Why?"

Biting her lip made her look innocent, the type I just couldn't resist. I turned on my side, throwing an arm over Ava. She had this dreamy glint in her eye. I never saw anyone look at me the way she did.

"Wanna sleep over?"

I was damn sure my cheeks were hot. Me. Blushing. This girl had a crazy effect on me—she weakened me. And... I kinda loved it.

"Do you want me to?"

"I want you to, very much." She moved forward kissing my Adam's apple—did she know how that made me shiver? It was whacky. "I'll even turn off my cell so no one wakes us up like last time."

Hmm, last time. This time was going to much better. I got to hold her in my arms.

"Sounds fantastic."

Ava's POV

Trip stripped out of his clothes, staying with only boxers on. I tried not to look there—but my eyes kept darting to his privates. It was like, you knew you couldn't look, so, you had to look.

He was a grinning mess stepping under the covers. The lights were all off, only the carousel was working. It gave what we were doing a very naive side—though, we were only sharing a bed. Nothing more.

"Having second thoughts?" I shook my head a second too quickly, he laughed—my palm went over his lips, shushing him.

"Quiet," my stern expression wavered as I felt a kiss on my palm—he took my hand, caressing it, kissing its back. "You're such a charmer." I blushed irritably.

"Thanks." Rolling my eyes I lowered my head on the pillow, he followed. "No Ollie tonight?"

My lips trembled as I fought off a smirk. My hand rested on his cheek. Jesus, he was gorgeous. His chiseled face, the mad glint of his eyes, his soft hazel hair... Thomas was my precious gem. I couldn't imagine ever living without him.

"I can't believe we're here—together." His eyes befell me. "I didn't think... I never thought I could be this happy with someone." Trip's finger brushed my chin, smiling a soft smile he only shared with me.

A sigh rippled my lips—

"I love you." Thomas' breathed in a soft murmur.

My body stiffened like a board, muscles knotted up, my throat closed. Holy ducklings. I looked at him for a long time, enough for him to lower his lashes.

"What?" I could almost smell the fear on him. My wolf was scared, not lots of things did the trick—rejection apparently did.

My palm brushed his rock-hard pecks in a calming message. All the while my brain was reeling—I had never done this before. Touch a boy this way... it felt so... hot. And those words? Definitely never heard those before, either.

I figured Thomas was the right guy to share all the firsts. Weeks ago I doodled his name on my notebook! I was swept off my feet so high you'd need a mega-sized cannonball to bring me down. If that wasn't love... then I had no idea what it was.

"Nothing," with a firm, smooth gesture I cupped his face making Trip stare into my eyes. "I just never expected you to say it first. You're a guy and all, and..." I gazed at him from under my lashes. "I wanted to say it before you did." Wriggling closer, our foreheads brushing, I said, "I love you, too."

In a rush, my brain hazed. His lips curved on mine, Thomas' fingers curled my strands—sliding along my neck. With greedy hands and teen-urges I slipped over him—straddling Trip's midsection. I could feel his abdominal muscles clench as he lifted himself, meeting my jaw with fluttering kisses, promising little sweet things that made my toes curl.

Trip's other hand moved down my back—it was slow, too slow. Each inch he covered was a show of affection. His pads were near my T-shirt's hem. My teeth grabbed his bottom lip grinding and pulling. I felt him gasp; he liked it. I repeated it—harder, this time.

It wasn't until Thomas' moaned into my mouth that I stopped. What was I… doing? Making out, my subconscious snorted dryly. Yes, I knew that, but… I was in my bedroom—in my house—with my parents inside! Having a locked door never made me this brave. I'd never had a boy in my bedroom, though.

Especially one this fit, deadly-handsome, funny, talented—ooh, I was smitten.

Thomas opened his eyes; my heart had a crazy beat to it. He brought our faces closer.

"What's wrong…?" OMG, Thomas Harrington was breathless—I stilled. I'd made him breathless. It made me feel sexy. "Ava?"

Oh. "Nothing, just… my parents are home, I don't want to take any risks. Suppose my Dad came knocking? I couldn't turn him away and you're a little too naked to push out the window." I poked his cheek. "I like that you can climb all the way up here. It's very romantic."

Thomas rolled us over, putting us facing each other—like before.

"Romantic, huh?" our foreheads touched. "It's probably because I always thought Romeo should've climbed Juliet's balcony instead of declaiming stupid poetry." I arched an eyebrow staring into his deep eyes. "Then they should've run off."

"Flip their families off, just like that?" I inched closer feeling the allure of his safe embrace.

"Yep," I smiled against his neck. He was so crude and I loved it so. "Speaking of which, your Dad didn't seem into me."

Wrapping an arm over his, I looked up, "You wanted my Dad to be into you?" Thomas cracked a pirate grin. "I hope I'm the only one who's into you. I can get very jealous." The smile deepened and he kissed me.

"Don't you worry, Rosy, you're the only person who I have eyes for. Unhealthy on a certain degree I think, but I'm utterly mental for you."

To stifle my giant laugh I pressed my face into the pillow. That was so corny. And sweet.

The carousel lamp continued to work, we stayed silent, eyes closed but neither of us was falling prey to the sandman.

"I never knew you wanted to be an attorney." Or go to College.

Thomas' sapphires were glinting as they slipped into slits. "You never asked," he shrugged. "It's not a big deal. Everyone has to do something for a living. Justice is something that agrees with me." His arm kept me firmly pushed into his side. "What about you, what do you really want to do?"

"I wanted to become a photographer and a landscape architect."

Trip frowny-faced me at 'wanted'. "You still can, Ava, you'll turn eighteen in a few months. Your Mom can't control you forever."

Moments like these were when I felt tempted to push him—I wanted to know what his Mother had against him. Maybe I could help with something, take the DVD away? I knew Trip wouldn't concede. Ms. Coleman was an expert and she never pumped a thing out of him.

It hit me that perhaps that was the problem. Lydia was a professional, and whether she was actually nice and trying to help, Trip would never see it that way because his parents were also paying her.

So, if I pushed a little every day… maybe.

Thomas' nose buried in my hair, I hid a smirk. Not tonight, though. I didn't want to ruin this.

Instead, I told him more, "I want to have a garden in the sky."

That took him by surprise, "In the sky…?"

I smiled innocently, "That's what I call it, but it's really just a garden on top of a skyscraper." I made a childish face as he mouthed 'cute'. "I've wanted one since I saw that movie Just like Heaven." His lips pursed like I was speaking another language all of a sudden. Men, I sighed. "It's with Cameron Diaz—"

"Oh. She's in it? I totally remember it now—" I stabbed his ribs with an elbow; Trip gasped a half-laugh. "You haven't lost your mean-streak."

"Gotta keep it interesting."

Minutes later we finally fell into a slow, rhythmic breathing pace, muscles relaxed…

"Should've known you were a green thumb…" Thomas' murmured with his husky voice. "…love sights, parks…" he trailed off sleepily.

I stroke Trip's hand so he'd let himself drift completely. He was more than a little tired, I could tell.

"I love you more than all those things combined…" I mumbled nestling deeper into our comfortable world.